


Strove to Reach the Unreachable Stars

by locketofyourhair



Category: Marvel (Movies), Thor (2011)
Genre: Character of Color, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Scars/Scarification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:02:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locketofyourhair/pseuds/locketofyourhair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fandral likes that he can see the battles in Hogun’s skin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strove to Reach the Unreachable Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kink_bingo**](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/), prompt scars/scarification.

Hogun is always stern, even in bed, when they are alone. It's not that he doesn't smile. They have been together almost a century and Fandral still feels a thrill down to his toes when he sees Hogun's smile. Sternness is just his way, on the battle field and here.

Fandral still likes to try and break him of that, stretching Hogun out on the bed before him and tracing each scar and mark with his fingers. He knows the story behind each. He was the cause of a few in youthful pranks. He starts with the scar that came from a boar first. They were young for such a thing to scar, just a minor attack. The scar is flat again his tongue and Hogun laughs. "You do not have to do this," he says.

“Oh I do,” Fandral murmurs. He likes this, tracing over the marks that show him as one of their best warriors. This boar would have scooped the heart out of a mortal, and Hogun is left but with one flat mark.

There are other marks that he likes, a burn scar on Hogun's forearm, an axe wound on Hogun's neck that should have killed him but did not. Fandral pauses at the axe wound for it was the thing that made him confess his desires.

His favorite is the most unsightly. It remains from a campaign gone very bad. Volstagg was clammy from blood loss and Fandral had a deep leg to his own thigh. Sif's sword arm was shattered.

Hogun had been the worst, nearly split from collar to groin by a spell. His survival came at the hands of Loki and Thor, Loki's magic holding him together while Thor cleared the area enough to call for the Bifrost.

Fandral licks over the line, the jagged trail. It is uneven in places, imperfect, and he skims his teeth against the rough skin. Hogun's breath catches but he says nothing.

He pauses and looks at Hogun’s calm face. “I can stop,” he says.

“Do as you like,” and there is just the beginning of heat to his words. He is nearly hard against Fandral’s body.

Fandral moves down Hogun’s body then, to the very end of the scar at the crease of Hogun’s thigh. The healing was messier here. The spell had begun its terrible journey, and when it came time to save him, they had to start here or risk losing him all together. The magic was wide and fierce, and such a wound is the mark of a true warrior, to come back from something like this.

He sets his teeth around the outline of the scar, biting down a touch harder and pulling at the skin. Hogun groans, and one hand settles at the base of Fandral’s skull, holding him there. He worries at the wound, and he does not have to pretend to be gentle. He doesn’t want to be gentle like this.

Fandral sucks and bites at the skin until Hogun begins to pant, until he finally says, “Fandral,” in an almost broken tone of voice and only then does Fandral take his mouth from the scars, to look at Hogun’s flushed face. His dark eyes are closed, and there is sweat at his forehead.

He scratches blunt nails at the scar, pretending he does not notice the strain in Hogun’s thighs or the deep red flush of his erection. “I think you could beg for it,” he says lightly.

Hogun’s fingers tighten in his hair. He laughs, and Fandral cannot help smiling. “I think I could force you,” he says back, and Fandral cannot help the dark thrill that races along his spine.

“It’s a battle then,” he whispers back and moves on to another mark.


End file.
